Nightly Ricktuals
by Sillycritter
Summary: Ever wonder why Rick and Morty have such a strong connection? The Universe is forever teaming with infinite Ricks and infinite Morties...and they can't all be bad. Mild spoilers for "Get Schwifty", 2x5. Enjoy; Read & Reviews (constructive criticism) are always welcome :)


**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** Ever wonder why Rick and Morty have such a strong connection? This is my theory as to why. :)

SOMETIME NOW OR LONG AGO

...and _Waaaay_ past Midnight, when everyone else is asleep, Rick tiptoes into Morty's bedroom and looks down at his infant grandson lying there blissfully asleep in his crib. Some nights all he does is just this, standing there, watching the gentle rise and fall of the baby's chest, and wonders what will become of him. He doesn't know their paths will converge; not yet. Or rather, this Morty and some Rick's will. He can't ever know if this Morty is his Morty, but, well, it's always better that way.

Sometimes, if he's drunk and/or stoned enough, he'll start going on and on about their latest adventure, and all the Do's and Dont's of being the "Ultimate Cloaking Device". Sometimes, he'll remember how something went bad, and he'll delve into how to fix it. ("D-d-dont fall in love during Flu season, Morty".) Or he'll remember the safer routes ("St-stay out of _Bluuurgh_ bathrooms on other pl-planets, Morty".) A moment of clarity will emerge and he'll add, "And j-just ignore me if I pull a knife on you or, or, or something like that...Just slap my face and BLUuuuURP tell me that you're n-n-NOT a simulation, ya, ya dig?"

He knows these words will probably never register. He tells himself that maybe-just maybe-they'll sink in. He knows that, at any time, he could join the baby in his dreams. But that's all they would be: just dreams. And Thank the Birdpeople that dreams can't kill you (for sure, he would have been dead long ago).

Only once or twice does Morty stir from his slumber. Only once would Morty start crying, and only once would Rick scoop the child up in his arms, placing a finger gently (yet firmly) to the boy's lips, yet the baby would not stop whimpering. On a whim he begins whirling around the room, careful not to trip over anything or cause the floorboards to creak, blurting out in as soft a tone he could the lyrics to his own song "Get Schwifty". He can't help but smile in spite of himself when the baby, mesmerized by this crazy old man singing to him and dancing with him, begins to giggle and gurgle giddily with instant approval.

"Aw yeah _Biiiiotch_ , that's m-my Morty, My-my main Man, Morty! You you b-better _believe_ it, Dawg!" He quickly places the giggling child back into the crib, gazing down on Morty with a feeling of...of...what the hell was it, this soft warm fuzzy buzz that was filling up his whole hollow chest? He's in no way used to it. It isn't the booze. Shit, the kid is probably responsible for it, and he wonders just how long it will last. (Either way he's going to have one helluva hangover.) Hopefully the kid will just go back to sleep and forget that any of this shit ever happened. (It was only a dream, just a crazy dream, after all.)

14 YEARS LATER

"Morty! Come meet Grandpa Rick!"

A relucant Morty joins his mother in the foyer. There standing in front of him is a tall lanky man with crazy hair and a unibrow, clean-shaven save for some random stubble and wearing a... _lab coat_?

"Hi, uhhh... _Grannnn,_ uh, Grand-Grand...pa?" Feeling like an idiot, he holds out a timid hand, unable to make contact with this...this stranger.

"' _Grandpa_ '?" The man towering over him with disgust snorts loudly, and claps him so hard on the back and so suddenly that Morty nearly falls over. "Don't give me any of that formmm-UHLu _yuerp_ crap! It's 'Rick', j-just plain 'Rick', none of this 'grandpa' bull _shyeit_ , and d-d- _don't_ \- don't you forget it, _Morty_!"

Morty blinks and stares up at the blazing eyes boring relentlessly down into him from above. He doesn't know if he should be frightened or what. Really, he doesn't know what to think. He could try not to think about it. But instead of shivering with fear and uncertainty, he smiles. Because somehow, deep down, he suddenly knows that he's safe. Somehow, everything about all this feels strangely...familiar. And for some reason, the little kid inside of him wants to start singing.


End file.
